


After One Door Closes

by karavasa



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Love, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 05:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karavasa/pseuds/karavasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After defeating the Arishok and cementing her place in Kirkwall society, Hawke turns her attention to more personal matters.  But when the one that got away shows up on the same evening as her new potential lover, things don't quite go as planned.</p><p>This is a drama-ed up retelling of the Fenris/Anders love triangle in Act 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_"If your door is open tonight, I will come to you."_

Hawke had been turning the words over in her head all evening, but she wasn't sure what she was going to do.

She was attracted to Anders. His stubborn jaw, his full lips, the promise of mischief in his eyes. There was no denying his appeal. The chemistry between them crackled like heat lightning before a summer storm; it was obvious long before they'd kissed. Like her, he was a mage. While she could never embrace the more radical elements of his outlook, at least she understood them. They had a lot in common, and Hawke was tired of spending long nights alone. There was no reason she shouldn't try to build as much of a life with Anders as Justice would let them have.

She still paced in anxious circles. Maybe he would stay away and spare her the decision.

Before much longer, she heard a hesitant step at the top of the stair. She turned towards the sound, hoping that the first glimpse of him framed in the doorway would make everything clear. But instead of the eager suitor she was expecting, she saw Fenris standing there, complicating her life once again.

"Is this a bad time, Hawke?" His rich voice pulled at thoughts best left buried.

"It's fine, Fenris. Come in." They were finally piecing their friendship back together, so she would at least take the time to hear him out. He moved slowly into the room.

"My markings are restless tonight. I would ordinarily sit in the mansion and drink until they quiet, but I feel strangely ill at ease. I... I did not wish to be alone."

Fenris dropped his gaze to his feet. He'd consider that urge for companionship a weakness, and it must have cost him to search her out. If he needed her, she couldn't just turn him away.

"You're always welcome here," she said. The words came out lightly, almost as if she didn’t know she was courting trouble. "Why don't you go downstairs and choose us a few bottles of wine?" He gave her a grateful nod and left the room.

When Anders walked in a few moments later, he wasn't smiling.

"I just passed Fenris on the stairs. What was he doing here?"

That was hardly the greeting she'd anticipated. "He's a friend, Anders. I am allowed to have those."

Her sharpness softened his eyes. "I'm sorry, Hawke. I just don't like to see him lurking around you."

Hawke didn't give a damn how the men felt about each other as long as they'd follow her orders in a fight, but she wasn't fond of being questioned in her own home. "He's a good man, and as I said, a friend."

"A good man who supports the oppression of mages. A friend who hates everything that we are." Anders broke into the passionate tone that he only used when discussing his political ideals.

"Mages destroyed his life. They abused him just as thoroughly as the Circle hurt you. And even so, he's making progress. He certainly doesn't hate me."

Anders let out a soft sigh. "Please don't remind me of that."

His meaning was plain enough, but if they were going to have this argument then she wanted it done. "Do you have something to say, Anders?"

He turned his face towards the fire. "This is not how tonight was supposed to be. I was going to walk in here, say something smooth, and take you in my arms. It was going to be our night, a chance for me to show you how I feel. Instead, there's Fenris still between us."

Hawke shook her head. "You've been working together for years, and yet you hate him more than ever. I don't understand."

He caught one of her hands in both of his, a plea in his warm brown eyes. "I want you, Hawke. I always have. You're everything I thought I’d never find. But he's more a beast than a man. Every time I set eyes on him, all I can think about is him touching you, kissing you. It makes me feel ill."

Hawke recoiled, pulling her hand from his grasp. A half hour ago she'd been on the verge of committing herself to this man, but after those words, she could hardly remember why.

***

Fenris heard their voices raised in an argument as he returned with the wine. He'd brought up a case, filling it with bottles plucked at random from the cellar. His initial hope was that Anders had come to deliver a quick message, but no such luck. It was hardly a surprise that the mage lingered, intent on spreading his own misery around.

He took a beat to ponder whether Anders would be more annoyed by eavesdropping or an interruption, but when he heard the man's words, his power flared.

Thoughts of his time with Hawke were a sweet torment, but those memories were for him and for Hawke, not for that abomination to throw in her face. Fenris wanted to pull Anders's heart from his chest quickly enough to choke him with it. Instead, he held himself still and focused on steadying the wine.

Rage knotted hard in his stomach, but this sounded like a lover's quarrel. If Hawke had finally responded to the abomination's glances and sighs, then he must allow her to decide for herself whether she'd just been insulted.

Her reaction was sure and swift. "How dare you?"

"Hawke, please," the mage stammered, realizing just how far he'd overstepped. "I just —"

She cut him off, her voice frosting over so completely that Fenris pictured the cold fury settling over her features. "I could never be with a man so disgusted by my past."

"I didn't mean —"

"Go home, Anders. Go home and agonize over how I once spent a night in the arms of someone you hate. Shall I tell you the lurid details to help you torture yourself?" Her voice swelled in glorious anger. "Better yet, maybe I'll have him again tonight. Perhaps while you're lying awake in your cold bed, Fenris and I will stare into each other's eyes as we make passionate love. Or maybe I'll just beg him to roll me over and give it to me until I scream."

Fenris heard a ragged groan, though he wasn't sure if it had come from him or from the mage. He knew that Hawke was only needling the other man, but her words sent fire through his veins. He remembered the curve of her lower back, the taste of her, and the cries she made at the height of her pleasure. He had no expectations of her, and no right to any after how badly he'd handled things. Even so, it was time for Anders to leave.

He walked in, set the case down, and tossed one of the bottles to Hawke. Anders gaped at him with a wounded expression. Fenris pulled the cork on a second bottle, took a long swig, and turned to the mage.

"Still here, I see. Were you planning to watch?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I want to play the Anders romance, I always have to keep Hawke's hands off Fenris in Act 2. I know that Anders in the game isn't as vocal as I've made him now that Fenris is crashing his big romantic moment, but his snark about that previous relationship always bugs me.


	2. Chapter 2

 

If Hawke was in less of a fury, the pain she'd caused might have roused her sympathy. But the way Anders had looked at her, as if Fenris's touch was some form of taint, had been intolerable. She could have forgiven his jealousy, his judgment was another matter.

Anders fled the room, taking the stairs at almost a run. Hawke and Fenris stood together until the front door slammed, then she felt a sudden flash of guilt. Fenris had come to her for comfort. She'd given him drama instead, centered on the subject they'd been edging carefully past for years.

When the silence felt too long, she spoke. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough that, were I the animal that he claims, there would be blood soaking your carpets."

Hawke sighed. "I shouldn't have involved you in that."

He heaved a one-shouldered shrug. "Your reaction was considerably less violent than the one I'd been entertaining. I am sorry that my presence interrupted your evening, though."

"I'm not," she replied. Fenris lifted one eyebrow in a silent question, and she continued. "That was bound to have ended badly no matter what. It wasn't one of my better ideas, I think I just wanted to feel a little less alone."

His eyes slid away before he spoke again. "I should go."

"If you leave me on my own with all this wine, there will be consequences," she said, wagging a finger at him. "When Aveline finds me passed out in a fountain somewhere, or maybe painting dirty slogans on the chantry door, I’ll tell her it was all your doing."

He agreed to stay, strictly in the name of protecting Kirkwall from a spree of drunken vandalism. He drank far less than usual, though. They stuck to safe topics, mostly telling old stories about mutual friends until the hour grew late and the fire burned low. By the time he left her, some of the restraint that had built up between them was gone. Neither made mention of the night's unpleasant start.

***

A week later, he sent for her. He wrote the note himself. Fenris knew that his handwriting was simple, but it was also precise. It showed that he'd been practicing. Hawke would like that.

He never doubted that she'd come. Through his rages, his ramblings, his fits of despair, Hawke was always there for him. Even after he'd hurt her, she still backed him up, pushed him to be a better man. She was more of a friend than he deserved, and he repaid her by risking that relationship again and again. He brushed the worst of the dust off his armchairs and tried not to wonder if he was about to sacrifice whatever shred of her esteem he’d managed to regain.

As soon as she arrived and settled into the well-worn seat, he began. "We've never spoken about what happened between us."

Her shoulders tightened, but she kept her voice even. "I didn't think you wanted to. You don't owe me an explanation, Fenris."

"Perhaps not, but I would very much like to make one." Hawke nodded for him to continue, so he gathered his courage and went on. "As I watched you sleep that night, my memories stirred. I caught only fragments: a smiling woman, a broken toy, the feel of sunlight on my unmarked skin.”

He broke off and looked into the fire for several long moments. She didn’t push, seeming content to sit in silence if that was what he needed. Once he found the words, he pronounced each one with care. “Those flashes were a bitter reminder that I am less than whole. And the pieces of my past that I can recall made it even worse. There are things that happened, things I did, that shame me. You deserve better.”

Hawke caught his gaze and held it fast. “Life isn’t about what we deserve. It’s about what we want enough to fight for. That’s why I’m a Fereldan apostate with a big, fancy house in Hightown, and it’s why your former master is rotting in the harbor. So what’s next? What else do you want?”

She made it sound so easy, but she also had a point. If he could stand against Danarius and claim his freedom, surely he could tell this woman the truth. He leaned forward in his seat. “I want a second chance. I want to be with you, Hawke, though I know you have little enough reason to accept me.“

She came to her feet and Fenris had the sinking realization that this time, he would have to watch her walk away. Instead, she pulled him up and into a tight hug. She settled her head against his chest, and his arms folded easily around her.

They stood there holding each other while he marveled at the thought that he might have a future at her side. The differences that had once seemed so insurmountable barely seemed to matter anymore. Not even his most improbable dreams of freedom had included someone like Hawke. He’d long ago accepted that he would fight and die for her. As he tilted her chin up to claim a gentle kiss, Fenris thought he might be ready to live for her as well.

***

His embrace was light and almost tentative, but Fenris was kissing her. Hawke could scarcely believe it. She’d wanted him for so long, and she’d spent nearly as much time trying to deny it. And now here he was, kissing her breathless.

He traced his hands carefully over her curves, as if he was trying to memorize the shape of her in this moment. Every touch was tender, though she felt the strength in his arms when he scooped her up and carried her to bed.

His moth-eaten coverlet had seen better days, but the sheets beneath it were clean. When he began to ease away her clothes, exploring each newly revealed inch of skin in the process, she caught his hand and held it still.

“You know we don’t have to do this, right?”

A note of concern lit his eyes. “Would you prefer to wait?”

 _Maker, no_ , she thought, but she settled for a quick shake of her head. “I just thought that, considering everything that’s happened, you might want to take things slow.”

He gave a low, resonant chuckle and leaned down to speak softly into her ear. “Never fear, Hawke. I have every intention of going very, very slowly.”

Fenris was as good as his word, caressing her at a deliberate pace that had her gasping for more long before he finally settled between her thighs. Even then, he would not be rushed. He made love to her with a quiet intensity until her whole body trembled beneath him, sending them both crashing over the edge.

As they slid into sleep, their bodies still entwined, Hawke smiled against his shoulder. It was nice to know that no matter what this crazy city threw at them next, at least they would face it together.

 


End file.
